Grasp
by alainnrois
Summary: Post-Blinded. Cal is feeling guilty and Gillian is home alone. One seeks forgiveness, another, comfort. One-shot. PLEASE R&R! Title is sort of abstract, but if you understand where I was going with the fic, you'll get it ;


**Author note: This is a one-shot set right after Blinded. I had the idea a few days ago when I came back from the doctor feeling completely sore and stuff, and was thinking how nice it would actually be to have someone who could help you with the little things when you feel like crap. Hope the rating is OK. If you think it should be rated M, don't hesitate to let me know. I don't want anyone to be offended or taken by surprise by the content.**

**Disclaimers: I do not own Lie To Me or any of its characters! (I'm so original).**

Cal drove over to her house, pressing his foot down on the speed pedal as far as it would go. He felt like an idiot, his only comfort being the certainty that both Andrew Jenkins and the copycat were now in prison and awaiting their sentence. He could not erase from his mind the image of Gillian being dragged down the cold asphalt, helpless and vulnerable. She could've got hurt badly, and it was his fault and nobody else's.

Yet even worse had been Gillian's phone call just a few minutes before. He couldn't get her distressed voice out of his head.

"_Hello, luv"._

"_Cal?" she asked, her voice trembling._

"_Are you ok? What's wrong?" he inquired._

"_I'm- Yes, I'm okay, it's just… Would you mind coming over? Alec's… Not home. I'm alone" she whimpered._

_Cal didn't need any more encouragement. He didn't know which made him angrier: the fact that he had brought this upon her, or Alec's indifference towards her. How could he not be home, waiting for her? _

"_I'm on my way" he said, hanging up before she could say anything more._

As he walked out the car and up to her porch, he noticed everything was completely shut. She must've been really scared still. He knocked on the front door. He heard a noise from the inside, near the living room. Then, a set of keys tingled near the threshold. The key turned in the lock. The door opened just enough to let him in.

Cal stepped in and had to adjust his eyes to the dim light coming from the fireplace in the living room. He turned to look at Gillian as she closed the door behind her. She checked the lock twice in a frantic manner. Cal put a hand over hers and swiftly removed the keys from her grip.

"Love" he called, her eyes meeting his with a fearful expression. "I'm here now. You've nothing to worry about".

He could see the relief on her face and almost heard the change of her heartbeat, as it slowed down, relaxing in his presence.

Then a violent sob wrecked her body and she heaved, falling into his arms.

"Oh, Cal!" she cried, "I am so scared. I am so scared!" She could not stop the tears that began to roll down her cheeks as she kept repeating, "I'm so scared…"

Cal felt the lump in his throat thicken. This was his entire fault.

"I'm so sorry, love" he moaned. "It's my fault. I was a bloody moron" he caressed her hair, trying to calm her down. "Will you forgive me?"

She nodded energetically and sobbed even more, clinging to his now soaked shirt.

He hugged her tight against him, wishing he could make it all go away. He kissed her forehead, then lifted her off her feet and carried her over to the couch next to the fire. Gillian did not resist. Her face was buried into his chest, now starting to calm down. Cal held her for a long time, careful not to hurt her already injured arm.

When her crying subsided, he laid his head against hers and sighed.

"It's okay, I'm here now".

He could tell she was worn out and was probably about to collapse into sleep.

"Where's-" he stopped right on his tracks. It was not a good time to ask her why her husband was not there for her. But he wanted to know if he was going to come back or if it was his intention to leave Gillian alone throughout the night.

"Do you want me to stay?" he asked very softly, knowing that if Alec was not coming, her answer would be positive, even if she didn't tell him why her husband wasn't coming home.

She sniffed and wrapped her arms around his waist.

"Please".

It sounded so childish, and so sincere. He sensed that she needed him, and truth be told, he wanted to stay. This was all because of him. He needed to be there and make sure she would be fine. If she were to be fine at all.

Gillian's eyelids started drooping, and Cal breathed heavily before lifting her again.

"C'mon love" he coaxed. "Let's get you to bed".

"I need to have a shower" Gillian protested.

"There's no way you can stand by yourself in the shower, and I'm not going to join you, Foster, as much as you'd want that" he said jokingly. She smiled in defeat.

"I'll have a bath" she insisted weakly as they went up the stairs.

"You'll fall asleep and drown" Cal teased, setting her back on her feet at the landing. "Besides, your arm is screwed". She gazed at him. He frowned. "What?"

"I really, really need to have a bath" she said in a barely audible tone. She was really exhausted.

Cal was about to say no for the third time, when her eyes rolled back into her head and she swayed to the front. Thankfully, since if it had been the other way, Cal wouldn't have been able to catch her before she hit the floor. At that moment, he decided that he would have to cross a line. The situation was crying out for him to act.

He carried her into the bathroom and laid her down on the floor with her head on his lap, as he let the hot water start to fill the tub.

"You ok?" he inquired, a little worried.

"Yeah" she answered groggily. "I… Need…"

"I know, love. Let me help you" he told her.

With great care, and very slowly, she managed to sit up straight. She looked very fragile and weak, and Cal was afraid to leave her alone even for half a second.

"Are you sure about this?" he asked, unsure.

She nodded, resigned.

"Gillian…" he whispered. "Seriously. I don't know if-"

"Cal-" she pleaded.

He looked into her eyes and found nothing more than a scared person, needing his help and his unconditional support. He thought about all the times Gillian had been there for him. And even if she hadn't been, Cal knew that he could never say no to her, especially in a situation like this. He took a deep breath.

Cal took off her shoes, and she started undoing the buttons on her sweater. She quickly got rid of it, and Cal removed her socks. She was about to start working on her shirt buttons, when he stood up and asked if he could make it a bubble bath. She nodded tiredly and pointed to the cupboard above the sink. He quickly filled the tub with the liquid and, sticking his hand into the water, stirred it to produce foam.

"Are you done yet?" he asked.

"No".

He waited, unable to make himself turn towards Gillian, knowing that there was a great chance that she would be almost completely naked, merely inches away from him. It was not that he didn't think her gorgeous. He just never thought he would see her like that. Let alone under the present circumstances. This was different, he told himself. The bubble bath was just an excuse not to look at her naked body. He didn't want to make her uncomfortable.

"Okay" she sighed. "I'm coming in".

Cal caught a glimpse of her small foot and her perfect, slim leg passing beside him as she climbed into the tub. He closed his eyes and waited.

"You can open your eyes, Cal" she said, with so much trust in her voice that she even surprised herself. This was not a sexy striptease. It was so much more. It was the realization that they could rely on each other even at the worst of times.

When Cal opened his eyes, he caught Gillian wincing because of the pain in her arm, which was now out of its **cast**.

"Does it hurt a lot?"

"Just a little bit" she nodded. "It's okay, really".

They looked at each other for a long moment. She turned around and grabbed a sponge, then handed it to Cal.

He soaked it.

He took it out.

He squeezed it onto his hand.

The temperature was perfect.

He soaked it again.

He took it out.

He hesitated, about to let the water down over her shoulder.

And it was only then that she showed the slightest hint of embarrassment on her face, though her eyes were shut.

"Gillian-"

"Just do it" she interrupted. Then she made a pause. "I trust you, Cal".

He squeezed the sponge and the warm water spilled all over Gillian's soft skin. She shivered, but smiled.

"Is that okay?" he asked timidly.

"Mm-hmm".

And in that way he continued.

First, over her shoulders and arms, which he had to be extra careful about.

Then, her neck. The soft flesh of her collarbone was especially smooth, and he found that she had a tiny mole right at the base of her neck, where it could never be spotted because of her hair.

Her back was a particularly enticing process. It was just perfect. Everything about it was drop dead gorgeous. The curve of her waist and the beginning of her hips were absolutely lovely. The scrapes and bruises of the attack did not succeed in making her uglier.

Cal took his time, moving softly, pressing very gently, as if he could tell her with each caress and each stroke that he was sorry. He covered every inch of her pale skin, now decorated with poppy bruises and irregular lines.

She seemed to be enjoying it. The further downwards he went, the more she would lean forward, approving of his movements and at the same time allowing him to explore. He got right to the base of her column, and then back up; anything else would've been inappropriate.

But the more time passed, the more she obliged. She lifted one leg over the border of the tub for him to clean, then did the same with the other, the little clouds of foam dancing around as she moved. He wondered what was going through her head. He finished with her feet, and her tiny toes, and squeezed the sponge one last time.

When he was about to leave it, she grasped his wrist delicately and sunk the sponge deep into the water. Slowly, lovingly, for she sensed his sudden uneasiness, she guided it to her chest, where she lowered it and pressed lightly.

He passed the fluffy material over her clavicles, her throat, her jaw line. She closed her eyes in appreciation. The shape of her breasts was barely hinted by their upper curve, the only visible thing above the thick foam, which was still forming here and there. But Cal did not dare go that way, or any further.

He let the sponge fall and cupped his hands in the water, filling the little hole with as much of it as he could and letting it down onto her head. She smiled appreciatively once more and blinked. She looked at him through the lukewarm drops with undying gratitude.

He wiped his brow and then leant forward, breathing a little heavily. He pulled a wet strand of hair behind her ear, and put his hand on her cheek. She nuzzled into his touch, a hint of sadness tugging on the inner corners of her eyebrows.

Cal wondered what that was.

Gillian wished she could tell him.

It was many things.

It was the fact that it should be Alec doing this for her.

It was the daunting thought that she'd have Cal bathe her rather than Alec.

It was the fear that Cal would never touch her like this again.

It was the desperation that this would be an exception, and only last a moment.

It was the certainty that he had seen her devastated, and still cared for her.

And her husband wasn't even there.

Cal kissed her forehead like he had done just an hour earlier, and stood up to find her a towel. When he did, he came back, and, never looking at her directly, helped her up and draped her in the dry material. The sudden cold made her grow stiff, but when Cal put his arms around her she relaxed visibly. She felt better now.

It wasn't long before she was in her pajamas and her arm was back where it should be. Cal pulled back her sheets and motioned for her to get in.

"Thanks, Cal" she groaned exhaustedly as she climbed into the half-empty king-sized bed.

"It's the least I could do".

He watched her for a while, until his eyes started to close too, which didn't go by unnoticed.

"I still want you to stay" she prompted.

"I'll sleep over here" he said, pointing to an armchair next to her bathroom door. She opened her mouth to say something but then shut it again. Cal picked up on it.

"What is it?"

"I know it must be weird for you and I shouldn't be asking you this but, can you just… Come closer?"

"Listen, love" Cal started. "I cannot sleep on your husband's side of the bed". He looked at her sternly. "I'm sorry, but I can't. That would be inappropriate and would only make me feel weirder than I already do, after, well, that" he concluded.

She gave him a curt nod and looked away.

"You're right, and I won't ask you to do that… But I still need you closer" she repeated, her eyebrows turning bleak.

Cal sighed and approached the armchair, sizing it before he attempted to move it to the other side of the room, right next to Gillian's bed. He eventually succeeded, and sat beside her.

"Thank you" she whispered.

"It's okay, hun, it's nothing, really".

After a long silence, Gillian reached out and held his hand in hers.

No words were spoken anymore.

Cal watched her until her eyes could bare the light no more,

Until the smile on her face was relaxed,

Until her breathing became even,

Until he could hear her heartbeat,

Until the night became day, and the rays of sunlight started peeking into the room.

Only then, did he allow himself to doze off into a peaceful slumber, still holding her hand, and holding in his memory her grateful smile.


End file.
